Mibu's Innocent
by Dani Bear
Summary: Saito spends some quiet time with Okita. (Warning: Homosexual content.)
1. Default Chapter

Saito... why had he even chosen the name? Something about it appealed to him. He couldn't explain it, but it was like he could hear it, being said to him. Being said the way a lover would say it. How that would sound was actually the thing that pushed him. Whenever he took a new name, he knew what he was doing. He knew what would be attached to that name. After a year as Yamaguchi Jirou, he realized he needed something new. Something strong. Something empowering. And he found it.  
  
Saito.  
  
Who was saying it? That he couldn't figure out--the voices in his mind. He only knew one thing about them. They were starkly different, but they both belonged to... men.  
  
Damn, that made him want a cigarette. However, he'd given up tobacco when he was accepted into the Shinsengumi. It made him an irritable asshole, as opposed to just an asshole, but it was good as a member of the protectors of Kyoto. He always tried to talk himself out of his craving. It was the same internal pleading every time: Don't think about the sweet swell of nicotine filling your mouth. Don't think about the smoke as it chars your lungs in a most pleasant and relaxing way. Don't.  
  
"Saito-san?"  
  
Saito broke from his silent mantra and didn't even realize he was holding his hands in a gesture reminiscent of his smoking. He saw the young man standing there, looking at him with an amused smile. Okita. Saito was embarrassed.  
  
"Yes, Okita?"  
  
Okita shook his head, trying valiantly to hide his own embarrassment at catching Saito so deep in thought.  
  
"Forgive me, Saito-san. I just saw you out here alone and I just wanted to talk, if you're not too busy, that is."  
  
It never failed that Saito's cold heart warmed just a little around Okita. Perhaps if Okita wasn't who he was, Saito could stay in mean spirits, but after spending so much time with the gifted young man, it just wasn't possible. He bowed his head, hiding his grin.  
  
"I'm not busy," he said, the grin perfectly visible through the sound of his voice.  
  
Okita beamed at this, his posture immediately straightening as he climbed on the banister adjacent to Saito's perch.  
  
"You were thinking," Okita said, even though it was obvious that was what Saito was doing. He just wasn't sure how to start a conversation with the rigid man.  
  
"Yeah, I was."  
  
"Um . . . do you mind if I ask what it was you were thinking about?"  
  
Okita's voice was thin and fragile, something his spirit was not. Saito admired that about him, the way he could fool people without even trying.  
  
Saito sighed and then let a small smile play around his lips, reaching to his narrow eyes.  
  
"I was thinking about a cigarette."  
  
The deceitfully sweet swordsman had to smile broadly at that.  
  
"Are you out?" Okita asked eagerly. "Should I go find one for you?"  
  
Saito turned his gaze on Okita then, and the smaller boy almost gasped. Somehow Saito looked even more intense when he smiled his true smile.  
  
"No," Saito said quietly, "it's nothing like that. I quit a while back."  
  
Okita chuckled, a light sound, like it was carried on the wings of butterflies.  
  
"You miss them that much then? I mean, you looked so absorbed, I wasn't sure you'd even heard me!"  
  
It was Saito's turn to chuckle then. "Maybe I wasn't only thinking about a smoke."  
  
An easy silence settled on the porch as the afternoon sun beat down around the pair. Somehow Saito's quiet and hard nature didn't scare or bother Okita. In fact, he quite enjoyed the way Saito didn't ask anything of him, the way Saito just let him be.  
  
And then the silence was shattered.  
  
"Okita-kun!"  
  
It was the Shinsengumi's vice-captain, Hijikata, looking for his right-hand man.  
  
Okita immediately hopped off the banister and jogged to the far end of the porch. And Saito couldn't help but watch, from the corner of his narrowed eyes, Okita's hair bouncing as he ran along.  
  
Hijikata spoke to his little minion in hushed tones that Saito did not even bother to hear. He figured if it were his business, Hijikata would say something. After all, Okita was the best as far as everyone was concerned, captain of the first squad of the Shinsengumi and all that.  
  
Soon the vice-captain turned and swiftly left around the corner, quick as he'd come. Okita trotted back over to Saito, smiling at him shyly.  
  
"Thank you for talking with me, Saito-san," he said brightly, bowing his head.  
  
Saito's lips quirked in an amused smile and he watched Okita bound away. He kept the expression as he thought, "Ah, but we didn't really talk." 


	2. Later that day

Evening found Saito still at his post, his hands folded into the large sleeves of his jacket and his sword propped on his knee, the sheathed blade resting on his left shoulder. Occasionally his eyes broke open to survey the grounds at his end of the compound. There was nothing special to report--hadn't been since he'd taken his watch at noon, and he was bored to tears.  
  
Then there was a rustle in the bushes. Saito's hand imperceptibly shifted to the hilt of his sword and he waited for more noises. He was playing the observation in his head--how many were there? was it even human? He would hate nothing more than to waste a rush of adrenaline on a harmless rabbit or squirrel.  
  
Another rustle, and he could hear that it was getting closer. It was bigger than a rabbit or a squirrel, whatever it was. And the way the sound came mostly from the top of the hedges lead him to believe it was a human, crouching.  
  
Not very stealthy, he thought, steadying his feet on the bottom of the banister, ready to attack if necessary.  
  
One loud shake of dry leaves and then a flash of silver in the moonlight found Saito with his sword crossing someone else's. When the figure stepped back to forfeit, Saito saw who it was.  
  
Okita.  
  
"Hn," Saito uttered, sheathing his sword quietly. "What are you up to?"  
  
Okita put away his sword in turn, panting lightly and smiling, full of mischief.  
  
"You looked bored. I didn't want you to fall asleep," he told Saito.  
  
"You got the bored part right, kid."  
  
Okita's eyebrows knitted with confusion and he stepped back, seemingly offended.  
  
"Kid?"  
  
Saito nodded, already starting back to the banister he'd been sitting on for nine hours thus far.  
  
"Saito-san," Okita said, trailing after the taller man, "I'm not a kid."  
  
Saito didn't acknowledge this until he was seated on the wide slat of wood and his sword secured by his side.  
  
"You don't look a day over fifteen," Saito remarked.  
  
Okita resumed his position from earlier, wrapping his arm around the post separating him from Saito.  
  
"Yeah. But I am, so..." he trailed off, biting his lip and looking around the darkened porch. "You've got watch here until midnight?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well, want some company?" Okita offered, whole-heartedly.  
  
Saito's first thought was to turn Okita down. Distractions during his watch were certainly not welcome, and Okita had definitely become a distraction since Saito met him a year ago. But Okita was right before. Bored wasn't even a strong enough word to describe his state of mind right now. And boredom led to thinking.--unproductive thinking. Flanks of men were protecting the outer perimeters of the Shinsengumi property, so Saito didn't really have a purpose on the porch anyway.  
  
"Okay," he finally answered, the amount of thought he'd put into the simple question obvious in the weight of that one word.  
  
Okita smiled beautifully then and Saito barely turned his head in its direction, like it was beckoning him to look, like a spell.  
  
When someone finally spoke up, it was Okita, naturally.  
  
"I don't understand why the Shinsengumi's finest is sitting watch at the least active part of the compound," he remarked.  
  
Saito knew Okita was complimenting him, and he also knew he damn well deserved the praise. It was becoming less and less of a secret that Saito was even better at swordsmanship than Okita. But he joked with Okita anyway.  
  
"You're the one who asked to join me."  
  
Okita smiled shyly then, ducking his head as his big eyes sparkled up at Saito.  
  
"They have good reason," Saito continued. "Your frontline is always expendable. The weakest are out there, outside the gates. The strongest are closest to the house. It causes the enemy to let his guard down, thinking he's beaten the guards outside and now he's home free. But here we wait, the strongest of the Shinsengumi, ready to mow them down with just a bit of sarcasm."  
  
Saito grinned his own sort of mischief then as he saw Okita intently listening to his every word.  
  
"But I think," he added, smirking, "they put me here so I wouldn't be too worn out while administering examinations tomorrow."  
  
Okita broke into another grin then, rolling his eyes at Saito.  
  
"No one told me you liked to joke around so much, Saito-san."  
  
"I don't," he said matter-of-factly. "Not usually anyway."  
  
Okita blushed then, thankful that Saito couldn't see it in the darkness. He wasn't sure what Saito meant by that, but he wanted to believe it meant that Okita allowed Saito the ease to kid around.  
  
Crickets chirped and frogs croaked as the pair fell into their comfortable muteness. The air was cooling rapidly and Okita shivered, holding the post tighter because of it. His lungs tightened and he coughed into his small hand, his eyes squeezing shut.  
  
Saito wouldn't have paid much heed to it, except Okita coughed an exceptionally long time. After almost a minute of hoarse barking from his comrade, Saito spoke.  
  
"Okita. You're coming down with something."  
  
Okita managed a weak smile, coughing the last bit of tickle from his throat and waving his hand at Saito.  
  
"No. I'm okay. I must be thirsty. Forgive me, Saito-san."  
  
After a few seconds of quiet, Saito initiated conversation for the second time.  
  
"You don't have to be so formal with me, Okita."  
  
This caused him to look up at Saito, surprise clearly plastered on his adorable face.  
  
"I . . . don't?"  
  
"No. We're comrades. We've known one another for a year. I'm not even older than you. If you cough in front of me, if you address me . . . you don't have to apologize."  
  
Okita had never paid much attention to his mannerisms. He had been around his elders so long, he began to treat everyone with formality. Everyone seemed like an elder next to him, anyway.  
  
"Okay. Thank you."  
  
The silence stretched between them again, and Okita felt guilty that he had come outside to keep Saito company, and so far he didn't seem to be entertaining the man more than he already had been.  
  
"Sai . . . to?" he queried, partly trying out the stoic man's name without the honorific, and partly ready with a question.  
  
Saito couldn't help but grin at Okita's hesitation. "Yes?"  
  
"Do you . . . have a girlfriend?"  
  
Okita's cheeks burned and he winced, not sure why he'd even asked. Well, that was a lie. He had asked to make conversation and out of curiosity.  
  
Saito smirked.  
  
"No."  
  
Okita very quietly sighed with relief.  
  
"I asked because . . . well, I was noticing . . . that you don't go to the brothels with everyone else. I know you're not married, so I was thinking maybe you had a girlfriend somewhere."  
  
Darkness passed over Saito's face as he commented on Okita's observation.  
  
"I have no use for such frivolous things."  
  
"Frivolous? The prostitutes?" Okita asked, a little perplexed.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Oh." Okita figured this conversation must be over. Although with Saito, it was hard to tell. He did only speak what was necessary it seemed.  
  
But Saito surprised Okita.  
  
"Do you have use for them?" he asked, though he knew the answer. Okita never went to the brothels either.  
  
"No!" Okita said, seemingly bewildered that Saito would even think such a thing. "I think they're an awful institution, actually. I mean . . . I feel sorry for the women."  
  
Saito didn't remark.  
  
"And anyway," Okita continued, "I thought you would know better than that, as for my preferences."  
  
It didn't take much thinking to let Saito know what Okita meant. Okita was, as the saying went, a lover of men.  
  
"Yeah," Saito commented.  
  
He didn't really like to think about it. Not that he was against the matter. It was hard to find a samurai, wandering and without master or not, who hadn't at least dabbled in homosexuality in those times. But the way Okita showed compassion for the working girls, it let Saito know that Okita had secrets he wasn't telling.  
  
Just then, Okita dropped down from his perch and stood in front of Saito, smiling languidly in the moonlight's shadows. He touched Saito's right hand, which rested on the railing beside the third captain's thigh. Okita tilted his round face up to Saito's long one and whispered, "Saito . . ." before rolling up on the balls of his feet and planting an off-center kiss on Saito's lips. It seemed like the most innocent thing, like something children might do when playing.  
  
Saito didn't seem shocked, nor pleased, nor even displeased. He just kept his eyes hard on Okita's as the smaller man shrank down and flat on his feet. His hand brushed Saito's as he pulled it away, smiling secretively and seemingly floating down the porch and around the corner.  
  
Saito lifted the hand Okita had touched, inspecting it shortly and then touching the back of it, right where Okita's fingers had been, to the spot those soft lips had been.  
  
What the hell was that? he wondered calmly. 


End file.
